


big happy family

by twistedsky



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedsky/pseuds/twistedsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Established!Regina/Tinkerbell try to expand their family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	big happy family

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sacred](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sacred/gifts).



> All mistakes are my own!

“Rub your belly,” Tinkerbell encourages, and Regina just gives her a _look_.

“I don’t think that’s going to make it any more likely that the insemination worked,” Regina says, but then Tinkerbell leans down and gently rubs Regina’s belly anyway, and then kisses it for good measure. “You’re ridiculous.”

Tinkerbell straightens up and meets her eyes, her own sparkling with happiness. “I hear that’s why you love me.”

“You heard wrong,” Regina says dryly, but then Tinkerbell leans over to kiss her cheek, and then plops down on the couch, which Regina has _told_ her about. This is expensive furniture, but Tinkerbell seems to think that furniture just serves a practical purpose. Which, to be fair, would make sense if it weren’t so damned expensive.

Regina rubs at her wedding ring, and then sighs. “We did the fertility spell.”

Tinkerbell waves her hand. “Fertility spells are _magic_ magic. This is just a little old wives tale.”

“I’ve never heard it,” Regina points out. “I think you made it up,” she says lowly, leaning toward Tinkerbell.

Others might be intimidated, but Tinkerbell just laughs her twinkling, happy laugh, and steals a kiss.

Love will make you do foolish things, Regina thinks. It’ll make you look rather silly too, rubbing your belly and letting your wife kiss it and ooh and aww even as you roll your eyes.

But love, she thinks, is too precious to regret.

~~

“Can’t you speed it up or something,” Tinkerbell complains as they stare down at the pregnancy test.

“I can’t control time,” Regina says, exasperated.

“Too bad,” Tinkerbell groans. “I still think it would have been nice to spend an extra week on our honeymoon.”

“We didn’t even go anywhere,” Regina points out, because they still can’t cross the town line willy-nilly.

Henry pops his head into the bathroom. “Anything yet?”

“Not yet,” Tinkerbell calls back, and Henry frowns.

“Can’t you—“ Henry waves his hands around. “Make it go faster.”

“That’s what I said,” Tinkerbell says, laughing slightly, but then the egg timer they’d set goes off, and Regina grabs the test, looking down at it.

“We’re having a baby!” Tinkerbell yells, and Henry runs in, whooping loudly, and Regina can barely hear any of their celebrating, because she’s pregnant, and her family is expanding even more than it already has, far past what she could have hoped for, far past what she’d thought she deserved.

Her heart feels so full it could burst, but it’s right in her chest where it belongs, and _that_ , she thinks, is the miracle of this moment.

She presses her hand over her belly, and Tinkerbell puts her hand over Regina’s, smiling at her knowingly, because she knows where Regina’s head is now.

With her mother, in the past. Tinkerbell’s hand over her own draws her back to the present, and Regina looks forward to the future.

This, she thinks, is a miracle.

~~

“I think it’s a boy,” Henry says, biting into an apple a little while later.

“I think it’s a _baby,_ ” Tinkerbell says, “And it can be whatever it likes.”

“It?” Regina asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“ _They_ makes it sound like we’re having multiples,” Tinkerbell says, and she almost looks excited at the thought, but tempers it at the slight panic on Regina’s face. “I wouldn’t want to confuse anyone,” she says gently, patting Regina’s arm.

“I could handle a _they_ ,” Regina says. “You’d be the one flying about, probably encouraging a town-wide panic, and by the end of it, people’d think I’m giving birth to fifty babies.”

The very thought of it is _horrifying_ , and she fights a shudder.

“I didn’t sign up for fifty babies,” Henry laughs.

“Neither did we,” Tinkerbell says, reaching out a hand and ruffling Henry’s hair. “Do you want to come to the ultrasound with us?”

“Uhhh,” Henry hesitates, “I don’t have to see—um, anything weird, do I?”

Regina laughs. “No, you won’t.”

There’s warmth in her heart at the sight of her little family. “Now, aren’t you supposed to getting ready to stay the night with your _other_ mom?” she raises an eyebrow.

“I could cancel,” Henry says. “It’s pretty exciting news.”

“And it’ll still be news tomorrow,” Regina says, shooing him off. “Try not to tell the whole town in one breath.”

Henry grabs his bag and runs out the door to do just that, and Regina leans her head against Tinkerbell’s where they’re sitting on the couch.

“I love you,” Tinkerbell says, her voice heavy with emotion.

“I love you too,” Regina replies. “And now we’re having a baby.”

“We are,” Tinkerbell says. “A _baby_.” She sounds amazed, and Regina knows the feeling. She remembers the moment when Henry first felt like _hers_ , and this feels a lot like that, but far less complicated by the demons of her past.

“We might want to barricade the doors,” Regina jokes now. “In case the town comes by with pitchforks.”

“Why would you say that?” Tinkerbell screeches. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m joking,” Regina points out. “I can joke.”

“You’re a bit too deadpan for such serious jokes,” Tinkerbell says, and then continues muttering under her breath about _silly evil queens who’d make the absolute worst choices without smart fairies to keep them honest_.

Well, Regina tends to agree, though she does prickle a bit at being called _silly_.

~~

“I don’t like this part of the pregnancy,” Regina sighs, and Tinkerbell wipes a wet washcloth across her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Tinkerbell says for the hundredth time, because Regina’s been vomiting nonstop for days.

“It’ll be over soon, hopefully.” Regina’s hinging a lot on _hopefully_ , because she doesn’t want to think about the alternative. Some people, she’s heard, vomit all the way through the third trimester.

No, she thinks ruthlessly, that’s not going to be me.

“It will,” Tinkerbell says, like she absolutely knows it will be, in that way she has. She always sounds so sure, so optimistic.

There are times when this annoys Regina, but this is also her favorite thing about her wife.

“Tink,” Regina says. “Do you—“ she starts to ask for these cracker-like cookies she really likes, but then Tinkerbell hands her a box of them right then, like she’s read her mind.

More likely, she’s simply kind, and compassionate, and attentive. She pays attention, and she cares.

“Thank you,” Regina moans, tearing through the box and then into an individual plastic wrapper. Too much packaging, if you ask her. Finally, she bites into one. “Heavenly.”

“You’re going to have to eat more than cookies at some point,” Tinkerbell says, and then she hands her the daily vitamins too. She leans forward, and then hesitates.

“Not sure you want to kiss me after I’ve just finished hurling?” Regina asks, challenge imminent.

“Not at all,” Tinkerbell says, eyes sparkling with humor, and she kisses Regina’s forehead and pulls away quickly.

~~

The ultrasound is clear enough that Regina turns to Tinkerbell, and says accusingly. “You cursed us.”

“This is a blessing,” Tinkerbell assures her, though there’s a hint of panic in her eyes.

_Two babies._

Henry’s laughing in the corner, and Regina isn’t concerned, because she’ll have the last laugh. He’d already promised to babysit, and she’s not going to let him off of that on a technicality.

She may have to be patient, but she’ll get her revenge.

“They’re not coming out of you,” Regina points out. “Two babies,” she says, like she’s disgusted.

Inside, she’s not disgusted at all.

Part of her is excited, and the other part is terrified.

Tinkerbell reaches out and grabs her hand, squeezing gently.

Regina meets her eyes, and Tinkerbell’s are only full of love and excitement.

It warms something in Regina—settles her, lets the negative energy disperse, and helps her ground herself. “Two babies,” Regina says again, this time much more happily. “At least it isn’t fifty.”

This is a _gift._

~~

Tinkerbell is massaging her feet, which ache all day long, even though she’s been using a soothing salve on them.

“I think the babies just think their moms need bonding time,” Tinkerbell muses as they watch Netflix, the gift that never stops giving.

“I think the babies know their moms bond enough as it is, and _this_ mom just wants a foot massage.”

“Well, this mom is happy to oblige,” Tinkerbell smiles happily. “What should our babies call us?”

“Mother?” Regina suggests, because _obviously_.

“No, I mean specifically,” Tinkerbell says, frowning slightly in thought. “We could go by different names. I’ve always wanted to be _mama_.”

“You’re ridiculous. Okay, you can be mama. I’ll be mom,” It’s been good enough for the last several years of Henry’s life, it’ll be good enough for the rest of her life.

“Good,” Tinkerbell says, sounding pleased. “I was watching this show, Toddlers and Tiaras—“

“No,” Regina says, cutting her off. “We’re not doing that.”

“I was going to say that we should definitely not do that,” Tinkerbell says defensively, and Regina gives her a careful look.

“Uh huh,” Regina says, still skeptical.

“I think it’s exploitative,” Tinkerbell insists, and Regina believes her.

“Okay,” Regina says, lifting up a hand. “I believe you.”

“Good,” Tinkerbell says, and she stops massaging Regina’s feet.

“Hey—“ Regina says, but then Tinkerbell shakes her head.

“Don’t doubt me, my love,” Tinkerbell says, leaning over to kiss her softly.

“Not for a second,” Regina swears. “Now, can we get back to the massage?”

Tinkerbell lets her sweat for a moment, then goes back to massaging. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yes,” Regina says. “I am.”

~~

“How about Roxy and Moxy?”

“You’re kidding,” Regina says, and she hopes Tinkerbell is, because wow, _no._

Tinkerbell shrugs, like she wasn’t very attached to those names anyway. “Annabelle and Andrew?”

“I have no emotional attachment to any of these names,” Regina says. “We could simply wait till the babies are born, and then decide then.”

Tinkerbell gives her a _look_. “I was watching this show the other day, and this woman didn’t have a name until she was a month old, and she swears it disturbed the path of her entire life.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Regina scoffs. “What were you watching?”

Tinkerbell shrugs. “I don’t know, some talk show, I think. We could name one after your mother,” Tinkerbell says softly.

“No,” Regina says instantly, without hesitation. “No child needs that kind of baggage.”

Tinkerbell sighs. “We could ask the dwarves for some magic axes, and let their names be picked that way.”

“I don’t think so,” Regina says. “Dwarf magic,” she huffs. “They’re hatched fully grown.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Tinkerbell says primly, clearly a dash offended.

“No, there’s not,” Regina says. “But I don’t think that’s necessarily the best way to name our children. Human babies aren’t very . . . definitive. With our luck, they’d be Stinky and Cryer.”

Tinkerbell shrugs. “You may have a point,” she admits.

“We’ll figure it out,” Regina promises.

~~

“Oh,” the sonographer says, frowning slightly.

“What?” Tinkerbell says. “What was that oh? That didn’t sound like a good oh.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Regina says, comforting Tinkerbell by patting her hand slightly. She turns to the person doing the ultrasound. “What was the oh?” she asks, a little more demanding than her wife.

“Well,” he says, “I can’t really say. The doctor will discuss things with you in a few minutes.”

Regina, for a moment, truly regrets the fact that she’d given up evil magic and all that, because right now, she could really torture someone without feeling, well, _particularly_ guilty.

Tinkerbell reaches for her hand now. “It’ll be fine,” Tinkerbell says.

It’s not necessarily fine, they find out a few minutes later.

“There’s a shadow,” the doctor explains. “It could be nothing,” she says. “But it could also be something.”

“How do we know?” Regina asks, her heart sinking.

Maybe this is some sort of karmic retribution from the universe, because of all of the lives she’s destroyed. Maybe this is just the culmination of all of her bad deeds.

Actions, she knows, have consequences.

“There’s a test we can do,” the doctor explains. “Though it’s not without its own risks.”

Tinkerbell stares intently at the doctor as she continues on, but she looks lost.

She’s trying to be brave, Regina realizes, _for her_.

Regina listens to every word the doctor says.

This happens, she discovers, and it could mean nothing at all.

~~

“You can’t turn to the dark arts,” Snow tells her, and Regina feels the urge to wring her neck.

“If it were your child,” Regina says, “What would you do?” What have _you_ done to protect your family?

Snow hesitates, then sighs. “Your children,” she says softly, “Are inside of you, and if you do dark magic, who is to say what kind of magic and feeling is settling in them?”

Regina freezes then. “I want them to be alive,” she says. “ _That_ is what I care about.”

“You’ve already taken the test,” Snow points out. “Now all you can do is hope for the best.” Snow grabs her hand, and forces Regina into making eye contact with her. “This will work out the way it’s supposed to.”

If the way it’s supposed to is the wrong way, then Regina doesn’t much care for Snow’s empty words.

~~

At night, when they’re both lying in bed, trying to sleep, both pretending that they already are, like they’re fine, like this is totally going to be okay, Regina turns her head to face Tinkerbell.

“Are you crying?” Regina reaches out a hand, and wipes away tears with her thumb. “If we get a bad result, I’m going to dig into whatever dark, scary place I have to in order to fix things.”

“I love you,” Tinkerbell says through tears. “But I can’t let you do that.”

“You won’t let me do anything,” Regina says softly. “I’ll just do it, for our family.”

Tinkerbell shakes her head slightly. “Regina, no. We’ll live with it, whatever it is. Magic is love, and beauty—and these are our babies. We can’t scar them, cast a shadow over their lives.”

“A shadow is already over their lives,” Regina says tensely.

“No,” Tinkerbell says. “It might be. But we aren’t gods. We may be made of magic and fairytales, but we’re not supposed to mess with these things.”

Regina wants to argue, but Tinkerbell reaches out a hand and strokes the side of her face. “Believe in me,” Tinkerbell says softly.

“Tink—“

“Believe in me,” Tinkerbell demands again, this time more firmly.

“I do,” Regina promises.

She’s not sure it’s enough to save their babies.

~~

It has nothing to do with magic, plaintive pleas, or hope, Regina knows, but their babies are okay.

There will be a million more things Regina will want to protect them from, and only some she’ll be able to.

But for now, they’re safely in her womb, and she wishes she could keep them there forever.

A dam of emotion breaks inside of Regina, and Tinkerbell laughs and cries and says _I told you so_ , and maybe, just maybe, they can actually get through this.

~~

“Push, Regina,” the doctor says.

“You have this,” Tinkerbell says, “ _Breathe.”_

“I am breathing,” Regina screams, but it turns into an even louder screech when she pushes hard.

Her entire body feels like it’s being ripped apart.

“I believe in you,” Tinkerbell says. “Push, my love, push.”

Regina pushes, and _there it is_.

“You have a beautiful girl,” the doctor congratulates them. “Now rest a moment, because the other baby’s coming fast.”

“Why isn’t there any crying?” Tinkerbell demands, and there’s a ferocity in her that Regina is always surprised(and pleased) by.

“Give it a moment,” the doctor says while the nurse cleans the baby, and then—there it is.

The most miraculous moment, Regina thinks.

And then, two and a half minutes later, there’s another.

Too many miracles, she thinks, sweaty and pained and _exhausted_.

Later, when Tinkerbell is curled up on the hospital bed with her, and they’re each holding one of the babies, Regina can’t seem to stop smiling.

This, she thinks, is the truest, most pure form of joy in the world—her babies, her wife, her son Henry. This is her family.

This heals her in ways she couldn’t possibly express.

This, she thinks, is love.


End file.
